


wisely and slow

by cakenaps



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:03:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/681982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakenaps/pseuds/cakenaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>twenty-five thoughts on William Darcy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't my backstory/headcanon for the real Darcy, although I don't think we've received anything that would explicitly dismiss it as an interpretation yet. Mostly I think I just wanted to try to get into why he's so clueless, when it comes to Lizzie. 
> 
> It's also basically what I like to call an ostrich AU; i.e. I am burying my head in the sand and as such, although this will follow the timeline of the LBD for a while, the Lydia/Wickham storyline just doesn't happen here. I like my characters relatively undamaged, and as invested as I am in the storyline in canon, there is no way I could do a story as serious and important as Lydia's justice.
> 
> not rating this yet, but it should be GA/Teen until chapter three, when it will maybe change? who knows.

**i.  
** William has his first kiss at 14. Her name is Emily, and she's a suitably affluent girl with blonde curls tumbling down her back, and big doe eyes. They're similar in a lot of ways, or at least, similar in the ways that matter to William then; she plays the piano, speaks four languages, and her mother owns one of Pemberley's primary clients. He's captivated by her a little – he loves the way her lips effortlessly form French words, because no matter how he tries, he's always been clumsy with it; her presence always flusters him, just slightly.

When he decides the time is right, he makes a stumbling proposal in French, because it's the language of love, and he's fourteen, so he's sure that the cliché can be excused. He's so nervous that he can't bring himself to look at her, so he misses entirely how she rolls her eyes at his faltering accent, and the way she looks him up and down before acknowledging him with a simple "I suppose".

He leans in, tucks her hair behind her ear, and gently presses his lips to hers.

 **ii.  
** For a fourteen year old, he's tall, but he hasn't filled out into his frame yet; his sense of style looks altogether too awkward on a boy as gangly as he is. Emily claims she thinks him handsome, but apparently, he's nothing in her eyes compared to George; William learns that he's not in love with her from the way that George's betrayal stings a great deal more than hers.

He forgives – George is a brother to him in all but blood, and even as a teenager he is all too aware of professionalism and propriety to hold anything against the daughter of someone so important to the company. Still, he learns some valuable lessons that day.

 **iii.  
** His first kiss is at fourteen, and until early 2013, it is his last.

 **iv.  
** It isn't as though he's short of other things to focus on. William's always been serious, cautious, and school is no exception to that. He knows that his opportunity to run Pemberley is a long,  _long_ way off; he knows that his father wouldn't ask him to do it if it wasn't what he truly wanted for himself. He's mostly sure that it is, though, and he wants to be ready when he has the chance- wasting his time on girls who don't really care about him anyway is absolutely not going to get him there. At this age, he knows, they're foolish; he's sure he has the same capacity.

He'll have plenty of time for that later – after college, maybe, when he's laid a strong foundation for himself in his work.

 **v.**  
The car crash changes everything, or rather, nothing at all – in the course of three years, and then one day, almost all of the family he knows is gone. His energy is taken up entirely between schoolwork, caring for his inconsolable little sister, and trying not to collapse under the weight of their combined grief. Those desires he'd harboured but had yet to act upon seem petty in the face of that; he can see no solace in them, nothing to be gained.

 **vi.**  
William is short neither of offers, nor of confidence. He knows that he's handsome; that there are scores of women who would fall at his feet if he gave the slightest signal of his interest. Attracting women is only his problem in the sense that he wishes he could stop doing it; these women don't – won't – know him, their insincerity so obvious that they may as well be wearing a great neon sign proclaiming their interests in his bank balance. He almost finds himself making a game of it – how outrageous must his opinions be for them to disagree; how banal a joke will they laugh at.  
  
It's utterly depressing how they endeavour to hang off his every word.

 **vii.**  
Caroline Lee isn't really all that different from the others. She sees him as William Darcy, successful businessman; William Darcy, drives a convertible; William Darcy, appreciator of the finer things in life. None of it is that great a leap from "William Darcy, walking checkbook", but combined with his lifelong friendship with her brother, it's enough for him to have some difficulty saying no to her.  
  
It's not that he wants her – he absolutely does not, and if she'd ever ask he wouldn't hesitate to emphasise that she's a fine  _friend_ , and nothing more – but rather that she doesn't consult him in the matter. She clutches his arm at parties; watches him from across the room, scowling at anyone he talks to; she puts on a show, as it were. He does nothing to encourage her, or so he hopes – he hasn't once reciprocated a casual touch or lascivious wink; never so much as blushes at her innuendo – but he has no desire to be cruel. He's no expert in social conventions, but he's reasonably certain that telling your best friend's sister "no, I am just NOT interested in you" when she hasn't explicitly said that she wants you to be is just something that isn't done.

 **viii.  
** William grows into an adult holding romance as an alien concept. It's something that people do, he knows, but it just isn't something that he can apply to himself in any sensible way. He has everything he needs to survive already, and romantic relationships are superfluous to that. It's not that he's a robot: he loves his sister and his friends deeply, does all he can to ensure the happiness of his employees; he's certainly not immune to the charms of a female figure. But casual isn't – has never been – William's thing, and he can no more imagine himself being one for tender touches and longing stares.

 **ix**  
If he's lonely, then the last person he'll admit it to is himself.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**x.**  
It’s no wonder, then, that Lizzie Bennet completely overwhelms him.  
  
He’s almost always been uncomfortable around women. Their first dance together is certainly no exception to that, but normally his discomfort is at least in part due to the simpering, the obvious attempts to impress, his awareness that knowledge of who he is and _what_ he is precedes him into most rooms and certainly their hearts. In this case, though – well, Lizzie is gorgeous and, for the first time, not drooling over him.  
  
Her eyebrows are raised as if to challenge him, her hands around his shoulders stiff, her lips pursed as if she's giving him a thorough appraisal. It’s refreshing in a way, although he finds his disdain giving way to nerves such that he’s never felt before: he feels himself tucking his chin back into his neck, and manages only to sputter out uncharacteristically short answers that lack even his usual attempts at politeness.

She is so very different from that to which he is accustomed.  
  
 **xi.**  
“Decent enough” are the words his mouth forms, although his shell-shocked expression and shuffling feet give him away. Bing is kind enough to take his words for the “this is new, I can’t cope, please leave it alone” that they are; chuckling and returning to the arms of Lizzie’s older (less striking, thinks William – albeit privately) sister.   
  


**xii.**  
The next few months are a shock to his system. Lizzie is fiery, bold, enchanting – she’s clearly intelligent, warm towards her sister, capable of disagreeing with him and perfectly willing to do so.  
  
He tries frantically to think of reasons not to care for her: their relative wealth, her insufferable family, her lack of social graces, her unrefined tastes – but his heart shoots down each one. She’s independent, charming, and unashamed of what she loves. He hopes one day to be unashamed of her.  
  
In hindsight, he perhaps ought to have ensured that was the case before approaching her.  
  


**xiii.  
** In the fall of his twenty-sixth year, William realises for the first time that his lack of romantic experience may be to his detriment. Never has he so greatly misread a situation, and he supposes it may be due, in part, to his prior refusal to attend to any such relationships at all. It is, perhaps, the most humiliated and affronted he has ever been.

Over one long night, he watches seemingly endless videos annihilating his character, his demeanour, his tastes. In addition to a gut-wrenching sorrow that is becoming all too familiar to him, the barrage of insults leave him feeling utterly chastised, the righteous anger he had felt at her initial rejection replaced swiftly with a terrible, terrible shame.  
  
Although no longer kidding himself that he has any real conviction of the “right” thing to do, he is compelled to write something – anything – to ensure that things aren’t left as they currently stand. He can only hope that she'll do him the kindness of reading it.  
  


**xiv.**  
His sister hugs him, ruffles his hair, and smiles gently.  
“We’ll teach you to be a real boy,” she says.  
His best friend buys him a hat and takes photos of his discomfort.  
  
It takes him a while to work out that they’re teaching him to laugh at himself.  
It takes even longer to learn.  
  


**xv.**  
She rejects his company much more politely the second time. It almost feels like progress.  
He still has a lot of work to do.  
  
That night, alone, he imagines her hands gripping much more than just his arm. It says something of his restraint that he lasted this long before thinking of her as he did this, and he comes so hard – it feels so good – that he can’t bring himself to be ashamed.   
  


**xvi.**  
During Lizzie’s stay at Pemberley, William learns that a solid basis in friendship is the best thing that could happen to them. Even if she never sees him the way he sees her, the pleasure of making her laugh is perhaps the greatest he’s ever known.  
  
He learns to bend to accommodate her; thinks carefully before he speaks to ensure that he expresses himself correctly. She, in turn, softens towards him - at first he catches her rolling her eyes before physically shaking herself out of it, but after a few weeks even that reminder of her previous attitude is gone. He tries not to read too deeply into the fact that she's working at this, too.  
  
He skips lunch often to allow himself the time to check in on her, see if she needs help with anything. The sixth time this happens, he finds Lizzie seated in front of the camera, a second seat next to her bearing a neatly-wrapped sandwich.  
  
"Aha!", she says, standing up immediately and shutting the door behind him. "Speak of the devil. Take a seat, Darcy."   
he scoops up the sandwich, holds it on his lap so as to have something to do with his hands; tries not to wonder what she had been saying about him just before. "This is beginning to feel a little like an ambush."  
"It's not an ambush if you walk in willingly! Come on. You're helping me with costume theatre."  
  
He accepts the hat and bowtie, and scans over the script she's handed him - she's caught on, it seems, to his newly sporadic eating habits, and is teasing him good-naturedly.  
"Well, Miss Bennet - given that I don't seem to remember having said that, ah, "lunch is just another form of time-wasting", I daresay that I am not the most qualified for this role; I rather fail to understand this character's motives. May I propose a switch? I'm sure I could better do justice to the kind young woman expressing her concern."  
He places the hat firmly on her head, hoping that she won't refuse - he could easily play himself, of course, but it occurs to him only now how much he wants to see her play him without the malice that characterised her earlier portrayals. Thankfully, though she seems surprised, she isn't opposed, and she hands him the blue checked shirt.  
  
"Lunch is just another form of time-wasting," she says, her voice taking on the deep, booming quality she seems to have assigned to him, "I can put my time to much better use by checking on all of my staff, even including the lowly grad-student interns."   
she turns to him, awaiting a response, and he gets as far as "But Darcy!" in his best high-pitched voice before she bursts into explosive laughter. He's holding out the sandwich with a look of deep fake concern, and her blue-checked shirt is hanging from his one arm where he'd obviously failed to fit it around his larger frame.  
  
He leans into her with a gentle, teasing smirk, bumps her shoulder, and thinks about how far they’ve come. She's recovering from her amusement, now - she sighs mock-wearily, wrestling the shirt away from him and tying it around his shoulders by the sleeves.  
  
He's struck by her closeness.  
"I don't," he whispers, and then louder-  
"I don't check on everyone. It's just you."  
She looks up from where her hand is resting on the knot of the sleeves.  
"I know." she replies, and then pulls him in, her other hand ghosting over his cheek before-   
  
 **xvii.**  
  
William Darcy's second kiss is at the age of twenty-six.  


  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what's going on with this - tenses? what? writing? ugh? I'M SORRY. I don't know why I try to do these things. I have a lot of ~thoughts~ on why I keep being not really satisfied with this but I'm pretty sure what they boil down to is "this is the way it keeps coming out, so it's staying like that."
> 
> Mostly I just couldn't get the image of Darcy with that tiny blue shirt hanging limply from his one arm out of my head. It's so funny to me, okay. I really, really want Darcy!Lizzie costume theatre.


End file.
